The One Armed Knight
by CondorReaper
Summary: Down an arm and missing his team, one Jaune Arc will have to brave the crucible that is the Wild's of Anima in an effort to return to what he will never lose. His family, his team, his life, but most of all, his home.
1. One Armed Knight

**So, uh, hey. I was maybe, sorta, kinda, really inspired by some older works on this site that showed Jaune either roughing it, or dealing with, uh, more permanent injuries. So I wanted to try my hand at it. Don't be to surprised if it sucks.**

 **I do not own Roosterteeth**

 **or the rights to RWBY**

 **and may Monty Oum be forever unbound by death.**

* * *

Untamed, untouched, and filled to the brim with creatures that wanted nothing more, and nothing less, than the extinction of both Humans and Faunus alike. This was what best described the Wilds, and very few had the power to change that. Fewer still actually did so.

The density of these creatures, that are referred to as Grimm by sentient life on Remnant, only increased the further one trekked into these daunting forests.

Underneath the deep, forest green canopies that cast the world beneath into shadow was a team of four. A bronze armored hoplite by the name of Pyrrah Nikos brought up the rear of the group, with the middle being comprised of ninja like boy garbed in green that answered to the name of Lie Ren, and a small, energetic redhead named Nora Valkyrie. She skipped happily behind their "Fearless Leader", who led them with a level of strategy unseen in most that attended their academy, and even fewer with his lack of training. This white knight, whose blonde hair and blue eyes led them through thick and thin throughout their time at Beacon, even after the Vytal Tournament that they fought tooth and nail to claim their first place spot in, to the dismay of their sister team RWBY.

Back to the present, the four moved through the foliage at a tense pace. The forest was crawling with Grimm of all shapes and sizes, and to say they were spent was an understatement. Pyrrah and Ren were completely out of aura, while Nora had a solid ten percent left. Jaune was best off, his massive amount keeping him at around half, yet he was still lightly bruised with more than one aching rib that was slowly being repaired. They hadn't seen many Grimm since leaving the mission sight, the search for and consequent destruction of the old Beringel that had been sighted by nearby villages. It hadn't done much anything yet, but the towns did not want to risk anything by it's prolonged lifetime. So here the team of the hour was, exhausted, lightly injured, but finished with what they had to do.

Or they would have been, had Ren not held his hand up, stopping Pyrrah and Nora while Jaune followed suit after only a moments delay. The silence was deafening to the four, signifying the lack of wildlife. A lack of wildlife only meant one thing, and thus the four drew their weapons. Ren and Pyrrah remained towards the back of the formation, with Jaune and Nora taking up the front. Normally the two redheads would have swapped places, but nobody wanted the resident champ to tempt fate so much. So, with bated breaths, they waited. Muscles tenses and relaxed as a passing breeze shifted the emerald leaves. They slowly released their breaths and Jaune was the first to lower his weapon.

A mistake that would follow him the rest of his days.

As soon as Jaune's arms relaxed, a flash of black quickly tackled him to the ground, giving him a violent shake before he was hurtled tree, a grunt escaping his mouth upon impact. A large wolf like creature with a pelt of black and many spots of bone armor decorating its frame stood on its hind legs in the center of the small clearing they resided. An Alpha Beowolf, injured lightly based on the marks across some of it's bone plating but otherwise completely fine. The rest of the team quickly formed up once again as Jaune staggered into something resembling a combat ready stance. The creature paid none any mind however, as it instead raised it's head high and let out a long howl that pierced the otherwise still and silent air. That broken silence was completely shattered by the returning cry that came from the direction behind the Alpha, and Jaune made a swift and tactical decision that he would never regret, no matter what it had cost him in the end.

"Run!" He shouted, pointing in the direction of the evac zone, which was thankfully in the opposite direction of the Grimm. The four ran, not even needing to look back for the sound of pounding paws and canine growling to reach them. They were gaining, and evac was still to far. So as their leader, Jaune did the only thing he could to help his team, his family, and his best friends.

"Ren, you're leader! Keep them safe!" Jaune called out as he whirled around, sword drawn and swung in time to cleave a smaller beowolf through the head. He heard a few outcries in response, but he tuned it out as he focused on any negative thoughts he could muster.

Weiss' denials

 _Ouch_

Cardin's Torment

 _Yeouch_

The potential loss of his newfound family

"Never." Barely a whisper over the beowolves working to surround him. They had left the other three to their escape as they focused on this beacon of negativity. They could feel it's delicious taste dance across their tongues, it's euphoric qualities bathing them with their own bloodlust. Or they would have, had a pink explosion not torn through a small number of the beasts. Jaune glanced to the side, tsking as he caught sight of Nora with a Grenade Launcher at the ready. A little further back was Ren and Pyrrah, laying down fire upon the pack. He could only smirk on the inside as he took a swipe on the face of his shield, a quick parry removing the offending limb. Looks like they might have this in the bag.

It was not to be, for soon enough the Alpha was once again upon Jaune. Now, Jaune was no slouch, having progressed to be on par with and even above some their grade, but an Alpha beowolf on a quarter of his aura was too much. The others were being pushed towards the direction of the evac point, and consequently, away from him. This resulted in a similar decision to the one made earlier, with an equal lack of regret.

"Everyone, run! I'm right behind you!" He called, and watched as the others ran without question. _The best team a leader could ask for,_ was all he thought as a large claw scraped across the face of his shield. He went for the counter, but was thrown off balance when he was tackled by a normal beowolf. He stabbed it through the neck before rolling to the side. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he did a quick spin that beheaded two more of the beasts. The alpha hung back as more and more Grimm threw themselves at Jaune. He heard the faint sounds of engines, and spared a glace upwards as he saw a landing bullhead.

A fatal mistake in the heat of combat.

The alpha wasted no time in capitalizing on this error, and Jaune could barely raise his shield to block the lunging bite from it. He felt… lighter after the attack, and used the newfound spry to quickly turn and stab in-between the exposed ribs of the alpha. It hit the ground in a slump, and it's form began to dissipate almost immediately. He flipped the sword in a reverse grip and swept back with it, stabbing another one of the Grimm by sheer luck alone. He took in his surroundings, the now empty clearing covered in a mix of scorch marks and trenches dug by claws. He could only smile at himself. He had slain an alpha beowolf, and about eight normal ones to boot. He had earned the small amount of pride he felt. Taking a step forward proved to be much more difficult than he had anticipated, and he staggered forward a few feet before falling onto the damp earth beneath him. He glanced towards the now dissipated form of the alpha, seeing his shield over next to a tree.

What made him slowly glance towards his shoulder, however, was the arm still attached to it.

Torn from its socket, his left shoulder was a complete mess of torn cloth and blood, exposed muscle suddenly burning at his attention. In fact, the pain and exhaustion caught up with him finally as he glanced upwards, the blue sky peaking through the canopy of emerald only blotted by the escaping form of a bullhead.

Even as dots swam in front of his eyes as he dragged himself to sit against the nearest tree, he could only smile as he drifted into unconsciousness from a mixture of shock, pain, and exhaustion. He did good, and he had no qualms in dying to protect those dearest to him. His team that was comprised of a brother in all but blood, a sister that would fit in perfectly with his seven others, and his mentor/crush that helped him survive the brutal school he was a student of.

 _The best team a leader could ask for._


	2. Moving On

**Kinda short, as it's mainly another setup chapter. So if you did not get the memo, the Fall of Beacon did not happen, and instead we got JNPR as its winners. Yay. Anyway, not sure how long chapters will be, but I'll always shoot for 1k+, so don't get to crazy.**

 **I do not own Roosterteeth,**

 **Or the rights to RWBY,**

 **and may Monty Oum be forever unbound by death.**

* * *

When a bullhead from the Wilds docked back into Beacon's port, Glynda Goodwitch and Ozpin were expecting many things from the people that should reside within its hull. Relief, excitement, cheering, even exhaustion. Especially since this was one of their most promising teams, and the skill of it's members exceeded most others.

Though, as always, the team managed to completely shatter their expectations. This time, however, it was in the worst way possible.

The aircraft had barely touched down when the doors were thrown open by their strongman, or strong-woman, Nora Valkyrie. The small redhead was quickly followed by a distraught Pyrrah Nikos, and a tense, but calm looking Lie Ren. The trio quickly stormed over to the two professors, the cobble beneath their feet cracking in more than one place as they did so. The metal doors of the bullhead shut at much slower pace than when they were opened, whether because the metal was misshapen in some parts or the person was afraid to do so remained unknown.

Upon arrival at the feet of Glynda and Ozpin, team _NPR quickly began pouring out information on the poor professors, and all Ozpin could do was raise a hand to silence them. He succeeded, and after a sip from his mug, decided to ask the question that both professors dreaded.

"Where is your leader?" At this, the trio before them froze. Their faces became taught with sadness, despair, and while Ren seemed calm, they did not miss the tenseness in his muscles. They never looked forward to the response to the question of one's missing teammate, but it was always said.

"He… He is still out there. We need to go retrieve him, Headmaster," Ren said as the two redhead's eyes began to water, tears beginning to fall through tracks made earlier. "We were forced away from him near the retrieval point before we were ambushed. He," Ren paused to take in a breath that held a barely audible shake. Pyrrah openly wept, supporting herself on Nora who sobbed in silence. "He told us to run as we were ambushed. We didn't, but when the fighting separated us, he sent us off saying 'I'm right behind you!' We assumed so, and hurried to the EZ. There we boarded, and the pilot didn't wait before leaving without him." He cast a glare at the bullhead, before giving his head a solemn shake.

"He is alive. His aura tracker says he's at a low percentage and slowly recovering, yet it can't give us a location." The two adults had been nodding along with Ren's recounting, Glynda having been taking some notes on her scroll as he talked. With a final, affirmative shake of her head, Glynda put away the device and looked directly into Ren's eyes, hers having softened at the tale.

"Get to the infirmary, you've all done well to bring this to us. We will send a fourth year team right away," She gave a light squeeze, and could feel some of the tension leave Ren. "We'll bring him home." Ren's eyes seemed to gloss over for a moment before he gave a nod of his own. He moved back to his teammates, their eyes sparkling with hope. Glynda moved away, leaving Ozpin to look over the three before leaving at the appearance of team RWBY.

 _I can only hope so, Glynda. I can only hope._

* * *

Pain.

Unholy, unending, pain.

This pain is what brought forth from Jaune a sharp gasp of breath as he quickly fell forwards onto his hands and knees. His slumber had been deep apparently, yet not deep enough if what awakened him was the feeling that his left side was bathed in fire. He hated this pain, hated what it stood for, but could not hate what it meant.

Pain meant he was alive, and if he was alive, then he could move, walk, fight, live.

It meant he could return home, and he'd be damned to pass this chance up. He quickly reached for the back pocket that held his scroll, and holding it up, was disappointed to find it cracked down the middle, the aura reader frozen on his screen. It also appeared that its location feature was busted, as the indicator was not on his broken screen. With sigh that carried with it the pain of the past day, he leaned onto his left arm to stand up.

Or he would have, had he not instead fallen onto his side, causing his to let out another pained gasp as his shoulder hit the ground. Opening his eyes, he saw a sight that immediately made him begin to shake in shock, pain, and a little fear. Something he had forgotten about, had its reminder not been awaiting him on the ground in front of him.

His left arm lie on the grass that was now stained red near where it would connect with the shoulder, his shield still strapped around its forearm with red staining its face. _He could be excused for dry heaving, right? How often was he supposed to see his own severed arm less than twenty feet away from him?_ Another dry heaved followed the thought. He quickly shook his head as he recalled where exactly he was in the world. The Wild's, where emotions drew hordes of Grimm like moths to a flame. He needed to leave, to head south if he remembered correctly. Settling on his knees, he looked at what little sky he could through the emerald canopy that hung overhead. The rising sun glowed in front of him, or he could only hope it was the rising sun and not the setting sun. He stumbled forward, the pain of moving a still something of a shock to him. He could only brace himself for what he had to do next.

The next step was twofold. First, he had to retrieve his shield. While it would not serve it's purpose as such anymore, it was still the only sheathe for his sword that he had. So he did as such, dry heaving once more as his arm squelched and released some more of his lifeblood upon moving. The shredded muscle and tendon billowed slightly in the wind as he lifted its dripping shape up, and he quickly dropped the limb once he finished the process. The second part came after he strapped on his sword, now sheathed in in his family's crest.

He had to inspect the actual wound.

Granted, this should probably have been his first action upon waking, but he was a little preoccupied by processing the fact that he was not, in fact, dead. So he moved some of the torn sleeve of his hoodie away, and as the blood caking it cracked, he was shocked to the sight beneath it. A mass of scar tissue marred the stump, and dead skin and sinew fell away at his touch. The same touch that almost forced out a scream from him as it made contact. He had known that aura could heal its wielder, hell, his had done so upon activation. This though? This seemed a bit much, even for him. As he prodded the scar tissue once more, only a hiss made it's way past his lips. Even the pain was rapidly dulling.

 _The miracles of aura, I suppose._

He shook his head to clear it of emotions, of negative thoughts and gave himself one goal, one purpose. He was going to make it home, even if he had to give other arm to do so. Dusting himself off with his one arm, he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

 _Always thought I was better without the shield._

So he left the clearing in the direction of what he thought to be south, his left arm resting upon the damp earth that covered the forest floor, the same earth stained red and black from the battle that took place their the day before.


	3. Finding Food

**So, uh, kinda messed up that last one at the end. It's no problem, got it all fixed thanks to the help of a helpful hirshja, so thank him for the fix at the end of the last chapter. Anyway, so this could be considered the first real chapter for you fine fellows, so have at thee!**

 **I do not own Roosterteeth,**

 **or the rights to RWBY,**

 **and may Monty Oum be forever unbound by death.**

* * *

It was drizzling over Beacon's courtyard, the dense clouds casting the world below in gray. Fitting, it would seem, for the information about to be delivered to teams _NPR and RWBY. It was the third day the esteemed campus was without their resident knight, and this time had done naught but heighten the anxiety felt by the entirety of both teams.

Weiss, filled with regret at her coldness, swore to apologize on his return.

Blake, who was never really close to him swore to change that.

Yang, who was a little angry, wanted to maybe, kinda, sorta punch his lights out for worrying her lil' sis.

Ruby, who just wanted to see her best friend again.

Ren and Nora, who both just wanted to see their brother in all but blood again.

Finally, Pyrrah. When he returned, she would first confess her feelings to him, before heightening his training regiment to obscene levels (Nora offered help with strength training). She was too scared to lose him again, so they would all be stronger so something like this would never happen again. After their first date of course.

So when it was told to the two teams that the Fourth Years sent to retrieve him was returning, you could safely bet that they all waited, some more begrudgingly than others, in the light drizzle. They were not alone, however, as Miss Goodwitch and Ozpin both wanted to see the return of the JNPR's leader as well. There were only so many times one could be pestered about return times before one went insane, after all. So the nine defenders of humanity, seven of which defenders to be, could only look on with anticipation as the bullhead slowly pulled into port.

Their anticipation was quickly met with despair, however, as the doors to the bullhead opened.

Medical staff rushed past the nine figures, causing all nine to worry as they retrieved the fourth year students. Two had to be carried out on stretchers as the other half of the team supported each other in their walk onto Beacon grounds. Upon passing the professors, they exchanged a few words before proceeding to the main campus, presumably to the infirmary. As the two professors looked back to the seven gathered before them with softened eyes, they took in the state of those gathered before them.

Pyrrah seemed to be in shock, a smile stuck on a face adorned with eyes in a thousand yard stare. Nora was supporting herself on Ren, who could only give as much support as possible to the small redhead. Ruby was constantly saying denials as she drew her head over further over her head. Yang had wrapped Ruby in a bear hug, though for the support of the younger sibling or herself was unknown. Blake seemed distant, and a bit disheartened. Weiss' face was contorted with regret with a tinge of sadness as she looked back towards the professors. They were not going to enjoy passing the news.

"The team was met with heavy resistance immediately upon arriving at the location, unsurprising given the sudden lack at the main territory occupier. It seems that we may have overestimated the strength of the Grimm that would appear, resulting in the state of the team." Pyrrah had sunken to her knees partway through, tears spilling from emerald eyes and over the cracked smile still stuck on her face. Ren and Nora weren't much better, Ren's stoicism cracking as he supported Nora as she was wracked with sobs. Ruby too had collapsed, dragging the elder sibling with her as they both shed tears. Blake shed a tear or two, more distraught at the thought than for any personal reason. Weiss' look of regret only deepened as she cast her gaze to the soaked cobble below.

"However,"

All seven students quickly returned their gaze to the two professors, eyes of all filled with varying amounts of hope.

"We do have an agent out there already that can attempt to track down your friend, one the two of you," he pointed at the present blonde and the red reaper. "Know quite well. Some dusty, old crow."

Ruby let out a cheer as relief flooded through the gathered students. Glynda only cocked an eyebrow at Ozpin as she quickly typed up a message to said agent. They both knew he would not appreciate the request, but they did have the very persuasive opinion of his nieces, so he should be up to it. With a wave of his hand, Ozpin dismissed the gathered teens, and as the seven made their way back to the dorms and the resident cookie addict spread Qrow's legacy to the corruptible youth (as Glynda put it), his old soul was tinged with worry. The state of the fourth years did not pose a promising picture for their Dork Knight.

* * *

 _Fuck it's cold_

This thought made its way through Jaune's head as me made his way south, rain seeming to pour between the leaves above. He was absolutely soaked by this point, and shivering like he was more hyper than Nora with a sugar rush.

 _Gotta find shelter, build shelter, whatever._

Ah, yes. Plans. Single step, easy to understand, and agreeable with all involved. So he decided that where he ended up was as good as any spot to stop. Not like he knew where he was going without the sun anyway, so attempting to progress would be a dumb idea anyhow. So he gathered some tall branches that held a decent amount of leaves, and quickly set about forming some sort of cover for himself. It wasn't his first time doing so, as camping with his father tended to be more… extreme than most others enjoyed. Nicholas Arc's minimalist camping style went down to the tents they didn't pack. Unfortunately, all tinder that would be used to build some sort of warming fire was soaked, and given that Ren had been carrying the pack, he was kinda screwed.

 _Least I'm out of the rain._

That's it, positive thoughts. It's how you survive in Grimm infested forestry. So he huddled in the corner of his makeshift tent, Crocea Mors at his side and hoodie laid out to dry as he drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

Or he would have, had a furious growling not startled him back to reality. His sword was already drawn and he stood in a clumsy stance, one that would have better fit if he had a shield to pair with his sword. He paid it no mind as he instead focused on the surrounding noises of the forest. All he could hear at the moment was the constant pitter patter of the rain, its noise muffled on the leaves of the branches and the already muddy earth.

 _GROOOOOOOOAN_

He almost smacked himself at his own stupidity as he recognized the source of the noise. He gave his stomach a glare as he settled back down. Of course he was hungry, it's not like he was already cold, wet, and tired. No, he would get hungry in the rain. The cold, drenching, scent masking, noise muffling…

This time he did smack himself as he struggled to put on his torn hoodie. Doing things one handed would definitely take some getting used to. So after a minute, he drew his sword and exited his little hut.

He hadn't hunted in a while. Well, not for traditional prey at least. He should have some skill left over from his days at home. As he looked back over his past however, and compared it to what he still knew, he knew two things. A, it would be a pain in the ass to find tracks in this rain washing down the earth, and B, he had no range. It wasn't as if a deer would just be strolling out here, especially not in this weather.

To the surprise of literally nobody, he was right.

In the stead of a deer, however, he did find something else, and it was actually very surprising.

Peeking around the edge of a tree, he confirmed what he saw to make sure he hadn't glimpsed a Grimm and thought it food. To his even greater surprise and joy, he hadn't.

A lone boar was digging through the softened earth at the base of a tree, its huffing and snorting audible from Jaune's distance of less than ten feet. It couldn't be over a yard long, and it's muscles bulged slightly beneath its skin and fur. A tough chew, and it needed to be cooked if he didn't want to get sick, but a valuable find nonetheless. So Jaune quickly crouched down, proceeding to move closer to its snorting form as stealthily as he could. The squelching of the mud beneath him was disappointing, yet it was also nothing that the rain failed to mask. He made it to a distance of three feet before he stopped pushing his luck. The rain was lightening by this point, and thus his noise canceler was almost out. He knew he would probably have one shot at this lunge if he wanted to preserve as much meat as possible, so he waited for it to emerge from the burrow.

And waited.

And waited.

And then he waited a bit more.

After a bit more waiting, the boar backed out slightly, revealing the back of its head and exposing it's neck. Jaune leapt forth, his sword leading the jump as it swiftly closed the distance between the flesh and blade. The boar let out a silent wheeze as its life was ended before it got the chance to squeal. The blade cut deep, severing the spinal cord and digging into the jowls of the hog. Jaune, with no small effort, removed his blade from the corpse, holding it out in the fading rain to wash off the blood that stained it's white metal. It worked, and he sheathed his sword afterwards, proceeding to bend down and pick up the carcass.

That... was not a good idea. One hundred and fifty pounds with one hand was a bit much for a lot of people, and he probably would have torn his rotator cuff if not for his aura. The realization that he would have to sacrifice some prime meat struck him slightly, as it seemed almost disrespectful to do so. He needed to eat though, and that meant he could only take parts of the boar. It also meant skinning and cleaning it, which he was definitely not looking forward to.

 _C'mon Jaune, you saw your own arm on the floor, distinctly NOT attached to your shoulder, you can clean a pig!_

* * *

 _One shameless timeskip later…_

* * *

One butchered boar and several dry heaves later, Jaune successfully had what he could scavenge off the borderline desecrated corpse. In a disgusting bag made from it's mangled skin was about five pounds of meat and a few bones. He left the rest for whatever animals decided to take up the free meal.

During his time spent cleaning the animal, he realized that he would need to get the meat either dried or cooked before it spoiled, and decided that a smoky fire was better than no fire. That didn't mean he wouldn't look for the driest tinder available, but it had only stopped raining a few minutes ago, so he would be lucky if he found much of anything. So he moved back to his makeshift hut, where he hoped to collect some wood from the innermost branches. To his luck, they were dry! Or, at least drier than the wood outside the hut, so he used it to build a small campfire.

Now the problem lay in actually lighting the fire. He could try twirling a stick in some wood, but he'd just end up tiring himself out before he actually accomplished anything. It wasn't as if he had any better options though, so he gave it a shot. To his surprise, it only took an hour and a half of spinning a stick against some wood!

To his despair, it only took so long because of the whole, you know, sudden right handedness? He was a righty before the whole… you know, so it was more the fact of having to do it one handed. Anyway, yeah, having only one hand made it a lot more difficult than it needed to be. So he blew on the fire in an effort to get it to grow, and it did so with it's natural hunger. The smoke was not as bad as it could have been, only leaving a small trail of black to taint the sky. He quickly set out a portion of the meat to cook on some flat stones, setting the rest out to dry for rations on the road.

 _Jerky. Unseasoned, pork jerky. Yay me._

He felt excused for his lack of enthusiasm, yet he quickly brought himself out of it nonetheless. He wished he had Ren's semblance, but no. Instead, he still didn't even know his. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he flipped the cooking pork over.

 _Wonder what the others are doing. Better without me? Maybe. Not the time to think about it now,_

He prodded the stones that held the meat upon them away from the burning fire with his sword, letting them cool slightly before picking up and biting into the relatively bland meat.

 _Just got to focus on getting home. To them. To her._


	4. Untied Laces

**Last chapter was a little lackluster, so this one should be a bit better. A bit more action, a bit more sadness** **(and 500 words shorter)** **, the whole nine yards. Anyway.**

 **I do not own Roosterteeth**

 **or the rights to RWBY**

 **and may Monty Oum be forever unbound by death.**

* * *

Qrow was tired.

A little drunk (a given for Qrow), but mostly just tired. He had been asked by Oz to locate some kid ass deep in the wilds, and get them out. Not to mention the fact that the ancient Beringel that had been keeping most of the other Grimm packs away was killed, so the place was even more dangerous than usual.

And his flask was empty, so he was even more grumpy than usual.

So he felt excused when he almost tripped over some log on the ground, stumbling into a nearby tree. He quickly whipped around to punt the offending hunk of wood for daring to cross his path but froze before he even took a step. Before him was not some dried, dead branch, but something much more foreboding.

What lie before him was an arm, severed at the shoulder and surrounded by grass stained red. Even the surrounding forest seemed to pay respect for the limb, as a single ray of light dispelled the shade surrounding the appendage. Qrow wasn't to bothered, as his chosen career path had brought him across far worse sights, but it did strike both a cord of sympathy and confusion at the sight. Sympathy for it to happen to someone so far into the Wild's, but confusion at the distinct lack of a body to accompany the severed arm.

He bent down, inspecting the arm a bit more closely. It's hand wore a leather, fingerless glove. A black sleeve that would not be remiss on a sweater of similar color covered the rest, and a white spaulder atop the shoulder. Qrow could swear he had heard these details before, even bet his prized flask on it. The reason being?

The details were exactly like what the kid he was hunting for was supposed to be wearing, eerily familiar. A quick DNA test would say if it was or wasn't, but that wouldn't be until he got back. Nevertheless, he still had to actually carry a severed arm back to Beacon and its residents. Such as the kids team.

And both of his nieces.

 _I'm gonna need a drink._

So Qrow bent down and gently picked up the appendage, carefully wrapping it in his cloak. Disgusting? A little, but he paid it not mind as he called in a bullhead for retrieval. Supposedly, the kid had saved his entire team with this, so he wasn't about to criticize him now.

 _I couldn't even save Sum-_

 _No Qrow,_ he shook his head and grimaced at the emptiness of his flask

 _That way leads to madness._

* * *

 _MADNESS!_

A mop of blonde rolled underneath a swipe from an Ursa Major, dragging his blade through it's shoulder. The Ursa returned the favor with a swipe towards his middle that forced him to jump back.

 _I could have SWORN that I had killed this one already!_

Jaune had been fighting for about ten minutes, as the untimely appearance of a small band of merry Ursas decided to screw with his day. In all likeliness, they were probably drawn to the frustration he had feeling prior to now from a very basic, very stupid problem.

He didn't know how to tie his own goddamned shoes.

The knots had come undone as a crow had passed overhead, its form just peaking through the canopy above as it flew over the blond and his woes. It looked as if it had been flying drunk, but who was he to judge. His shoes were untied, and he could not for the life of him figure out how to tie them securely with one hand. So as he ducked/fell under the arch of a flying Beowolf that had felt the negativity and heard the commotion, only one thought permeated his mind.

 _Weren't they triple knotted?_

He thrust his blade into the side of the Ursa Major once more, but the ancient blade got caught between its plated ribs. As Jaune struggled to free the blade and the Ursa bucked wildly, the Beowolf lunged once more, catching the handle of Crocea Mors. Jaune dove to the side and turned to see the one thing he never wanted to, or ever thought possible.

The stress on the blade as it was pressed in two different directions was to great, and its old metal shattered with a resounding crack. Time itself seemed to freeze as the Beowolf landed with the handle of his sword in its filthy maw, and the Ursa finally slumped down with the broken blade still in its side.

Jaune?

Jaune had completely locked up as he stared at the pale blade. What he considered his only lifeline, his only defense against the hordes that threatened to swallow him whole had shattered before his eyes. Even the Beowolf seemed shocked as it dropped the sword's grip upon the ground. Timed slowly resumed its normal pace however, as the Beowolf let out a snarl before charging forward at Jaune. In response, Jaune could only shake himself back to attention in time to dodge to the side. His mind was blank as he continued to dodge swipe after swipe, lunge after lunge, bite after bite, until his back hit a tree. The wooden behemoth did not even shake at the weight of Jaune throwing himself against it, and the Beowolf prepared for another lunge. Jaune was not out of aura, but he was in a position to lose a lot more than just an arm this time around. So he did the only thing he could.

He hoisted the sheath that had rarely, if ever, been unstrapped form his waist, and widened it into it's kite shield form. The Beowolf hit its face before grabbing the edges of the shield, its claws scraping against the metal with an eardrum shattering screech. Jaune returned the noise with a roar of his own as he shoved against the weight of the Grimm, throwing it off and onto the ground. He wasted no time in doing what came instinctively at that point.

He threw his body forward and drove the shields pointed edge through the throat of the beast. When it failed to go completely through, he repeated the action, and the accompanying squelch was music to his ears. So he repeated the process.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Over and over, and when the Grimm faded from beneath him, he continued to pound the spot on the earth below, digging a hole with his shield until he collapsed on its surface. He felt numb, even as silent tears fell from his eyes. The same ocean blue eyes seemed clouded over, apathetic even. He rose to his knees with the shield on the floor as he looked to the sky. The bright, almost cheery sunlight that pierced the canopy seemed to mock him, to taunt him with his failure. All because his damned shoes had come untied.

Suddenly, Jaune slapped himself across the face before breaking into laughter. His untied shoes had broken his blade, but not his will. Some stupid laces had ruined what he thought was his only form of offense, his only weapon against the Grimm.

Now? Now it started to seem hilarious in hindsight. Some untied shoes had made him realize that he never was an attacker, it wasn't what he wanted to be and certainly was never what role he had to play. He was a protector, and he only ever needed a shield to do so. Hell, it can easily be an offensive tool too, as the repeated beatings from Pyrrah and the most recent Grimm could tell you.

He wasn't helpless. If anything, he was better than ever.

So as his laughter settled into a light chuckle, he stood up a bit shakily and move to the fallen handle of the blade. Retrieving it, he inserted it into his shield before transforming the entire thing back into a sheath. He looked back over to the now faded corpse of the Ursa Major and saw the broken blade resting tip first in the earth, sunlight bathing the scene to give it a serene feel to the entire sight. He knelt before it and bowed his head.

"You were a legendary weapon, a sword held and used by equally legendary wielders. I know now that you were not what made them legendary, but in combination with your partner you won wars, defended the people, and destroyed evil." A solemn chuckle left his lips as he shook his head.

"I am not a destroyer of evil, nor have I had to fight a war…"

* * *

High atop a tower at Beacon, a certain white haired, coffee drinking Headmaster sneezed.

* * *

"…but I will always work to defend the people. My friends. My family,"

Images of each statement passed through his head as he said them.

"My home. All of these and more I must protect. For that I do not need you, never have." He stood up and turned to leave, leaving one last remark for the ancient blade that now resided in what would be its eternal resting place.

"All it took, was some undone laces."

Now if only he could figure out how to tie said laces.


	5. Nightmares Walking

**So, yeah. Had a tough time deciding when to do that to his sword, but it was planned since the start. Also, apologies for the last one's length, or lack thereof,** **so hopefully this makes up for it** **. Anyway, let'** **s get this show on the road** **.**

 **I do not own Roosterteeth**

 **or the Rights to RWBY**

 **and may Monty Oum be forever unbound by death.**

* * *

A sharp gasp pierced the night air as our resident knight sat up abruptly from his fitful sleep, grasping his left shoulder as he did so. It had been three days since his sword had shattered, and two since he figured out how to tie his shoes again.

Not a fact he was proud of.

This was the first night, however, that he had been awoken by phantom pain. A dull throb that seemed intent on making its presence as unbearably as possible, feeling as though someone was playing the xylophone on his nerve ends.

It was rarely this bad during the day, usually the occasional dull throb reminding him of what he had lost oh so long ago. The current hollow he was in, however, seemed to be doing nothing but act as a catalyst for his agony, and since he was awake, he quickly gathered what few items he had and made his way out.

It hadn't been a very deep hollow, more so the result of a natural shelter formed by the massive tree roots that suspended over a trench in the ground. The earthen smell still attacked his nostrils, but it would not take too long to acclimate to its scent. The same scent had a peculiar tang to it though, not to dissimilar to that of the smoldering embers of a camp fire.

 _FIRE!_

Any sleep still working it's way through his system quickly vacated it, instead being replaced by adrenaline mixed with no small amount of euphoria. He had not lit a fire last night, as the struggle to do so was enhanced by the surrounding dark. Thus, this had to be that of someone else, maybe even a town. Jaune moved through the trees with less difficulty than usual, though still under par when compared to the likes of Blake. Entering a clearing, he quickly looked to the sky. A faint trail of smoke was in the distance, about five hundred yards according to his guesstimations. So he made headway for the sign of life.

What he had neglected to recognize was that a smoke trail could very much lead to a source other than life, and destruction is what awaited his arrival.

He was right with the analogy to dying embers, as that is what seemed to remain of the town he looked over. Even from a first glance, it was easy to tell where the breach in the wall was made, and the path of destruction that followed whatever cleared this now barren town. Following through the gap in the wall lead only to more devastation, as the buildings had been reduced to either rubble or cinders before his arrival, a scarce few still standing, even fewer still actually safe to enter.

Jaune's pace was that of a slow jog as he made his way for the town hall. It was one of the few buildings left standing, and there he would find any survivors or radio equipment. That was all he could hope for at least.

The entrance was, unsurprisingly, barricaded with an assortment of wooden planks, furniture, and even some piles of brick. It took more than a few good rams with his shield to even budge the door, and with a numb shoulder, he decided that a different approach was needed. Making his way around, he saw a broken fire escape that lead to an open window. Swiftly making his way up the metal railing, he looked into the manor. It appeared just as empty as the rest of the town, with few sounds escaping its stretching halls. So Jaune invited himself in.

Making his way through the building, who's partially collapsed roof allowed for some form of light to filter through, Jaune was starting to get more and more worried. There hadn't appeared to be any form of underground tunnel system, nor had there been a viable back entrance, so the silence that made every crunch of stepped on ash echo throughout the expansive halls was more than a little disturbing. After what seemed like forever, he happened upon the reason for said silence.

An assortment of Ursi, Beowolves, and even a couple Creeps circled around a few of the survivors, who too seemed to be an odd group. There was an older looking hunter, who must have belonged to the town, a younger woman who was clearly trained as well, and the final member of the trio was a young girl who was desperately clinging to a small plushie of a corgi.

Jaune did not even have to think twice before he made his move, and what a bold move it was.

He leapt from the small balcony that he had been overlooking the scene from, slamming his shield point first onto the nape of the largest Ursa's neck. Thankfully, it was not an Ursa Major, else he have been nothing less than a shish kebab of a hunter. Leaping off the now fading Ursa, he slammed a Beowolf across the face, a satisfying crack leading it to fade as well. He finished his initiation with a retreat to the surprised group of three, raising his shield and moving against the circling Grimm. The tension continued to build for a few moments, before being shattered by shrieking cry that forced all to cower in pain, Human and Grimm alike. This was followed by a sight that Jaune had never thought was even possible until that night.

The Grimm ran with their tails between their legs, literally in the case of some Beowolves.

Jaune was not one to waste the opportunity, however, as he quickly turned to the trio to better assess the situation, and it was not looking good. The man and woman were exhausted, and any aura they had must have been gone by the time he had gotten there. The younger girl was shaking in terror, possibly drawing the owner of the cry from earlier to their location with haste. So he made a decision based on what he was given, and he would have preferred it no other way.

"Hey! Get out of here! Vale is to the south, I'll hold off whatever it is long enough for you to escape," The older couple seemed ready to argue, possibly reverse their roles, but they were silenced by another shriek from the unknown monster. "I have full aura and I'm still relatively fresh. I can hold it off long enough, just GO!"

Jaune did not even look to see if they listened as he bolted for the doors that had been torn asunder by the fleeing Grimm. Taking one last look behind him, he caught the eyes of the young girl as she was pulled through the upstairs doors from which he emerged. He nodded, to himself more than anything, and made his way in the direction of the cries that had echoed through the night. He was expecting something big, maybe some Alpha Beowolf, or some Creep that had gotten to big for its boots.

What he found would haunt his dreams forever more.

A bipedal creature standing on cloven hooves stood easily double Jaune's own six foot (1.8 meter) height, even with it's severely hunched form. Its abdomen was thin, extremely so, and its ribs were either plated or were simply that exposed. Bone plating lined its spine, leading up to a deer shaped skull with antlers that framed the shattered moon with their four foot length. Red eyes pierced through the sockets of the skull, and a foot long tongue hung from a lower jaw that seemed unhinged with the width it was opened. Its arms were freakishly long, ending in claws that seemed quite capable of splitting flesh as if it were butter. He had heard of this in one of Port's more interesting stories, and oh boy was he terrified.

A Wendigo, one of very few that have the luxury of roaming Remnant. What made them so special?

They were one of the few that bothered to eat the humans and faunus they slaughtered, and they did so with earnest.

It let out another piercing howl before leveling its hate filled gaze at Jaune, a wheezing breath escaping its gaping maw. Jaune returned the cry with a roar of his own as he got into a defensive stance. He would hold it off as long as he could, and then even longer. He knew his chances were slim, even if he weren't missing an arm or a sword, but he didn't have a choice.

He would at least make sure that the trio from earlier lived long enough to get another choice of their own.

The two stood across from one another, a patience that came from experience filling the Wendigo. It knew that it should have no trouble with the… boy before it, and it could taste the delicious fear rolling off of his form that was only slightly diluted by a sudden surge of determination.

Jaune would never deny his terror, but he could not be bothered with it now, as he wasn't protecting just himself. He was fighting in the defense of others, and that he could do all day, any day.

The standoff was finally broken by another cry from the Wendigo as it charged forward, the scraping of its blade like claws against the broken cobble shrieking through the cool night air. Jaune waited, his muscles taught, until the Wendigo's arm extended forward at a speed that could put Ruby's own to shame. Jaune could barely move his shield in time to block the attacks before the assault was continued, forcing him to take four steps back for ever step the Wendigo took forward, its hooves breaking the already cracked cobble apart further.

Jaune could feel the occasional claw scraping across his aura. He could feel it be damaged even through the shield that groaned against the assault. Jaune leapt back, giving himself a precious few seconds to catch his breath as the abomination before him cocked its head in an analyzing sort of fashion. Jaune hardened his gaze and his will.

 _I have got to be faster!_

As if reading his thoughts, the Grimm launched forward, attempting to run Jaune through on one of the many branches of its antlers. Jaune held up his shield, and upon collision, was forced back as his boots scraped across the ash covered ground. The Wendigo did not let up for even a second as Jaune barely kept his own guard up. Fate did not seem to be on Jaune's side, as after a few seconds of this, Jaune's back hit a wall, and the pressure on his only form grew exponentially every second.

A wheezing breath that sounded not to dissimilar to a laugh escaped the maw of the Wendigo as it pressed its prey against a building, using all four limbs for added pressure. The building itself seemed to be barely able to hold up as pressure was applied on it as well, the wall behind Jaune having formed a web-like crack that only seemed to spread every passing second. This was the end was nigh for our adorkable knight, and both sides of the fight knew and respected this fact.

A third party, however, did not.

The Wendigo's charge was forcefully interrupted by the crack of a large caliber rifle echoing through the night, followed by the sudden snapping of one of the Wendigo's antlers. The Wendigo's eyes seemed to widen in surprise as it fell to the side, the sudden disappearance of weight throwing it off. Jaune wasted no time, and with a bright flash of light surrounding his shield, he lunged forth, burying the point of his kite shield into the roof of the Wendigo's mouth. The Grimm spasmed, its form desperately trying to remove the object in its mouth with its death throes. Jaune returned the favor with a roar that lead a furious shove of the shield further into the Wendigo's skull, with the point of the shield even surfacing outside its head.

Its massive figure slumped down, and Jaune quickly vacated the now fading form of the nightmare creature. He looked to see where the assistance had come from, finding a sight he was not expecting to see. The old Huntsman from earlier was holding a war pick against his shoulder as he leaned against a crumbling wall. Jaune waved before stumbling forward, ending up face-first on the cobble ground. He could hear some laughter coming from the old coot as the Huntsman made his way to Jaune's fallen form. He rolled him over and hefted the knight onto his feet, slinging Jaune's only arm over his shoulder.

"C'mon kid, lets get goin'," Jaune could hear the slight smile in the man's voice.

"Vale's south, 'member?"


	6. Training Days

**Wow, the last chapter was probably the best received thus far. There were still some grammar errors, sorry. I try to fix what I find, but I can't catch 'em all. Sadly.** **Also, sorry that this took so long. Got a bad case of writer's block, so it is still a tad short. Anyhow, let's get this show on the road!**

 **I do not own Roosterteeth**

 **or the rights to RWBY**

 **and may Monty Oum be forever unbound by death.**

* * *

 _"I am truly sorry, but the Valean Council is preventing me from sending any further rescue attempts for Mister Arc,"_

Pyrrah sat on the edge of her bed, her empty gaze resting on the vacant bed of her leader. Ren and Nora both sat on their own beds, with Nora's ears covered by headphones and Ren's weapons in parts in front of him, however they too held empty looks in their eyes.

 _"The recovery of his… appendage, has dissuaded them from letting more Huntsman go in search of him,_

Jaune's Aura levels sat on display for Pyrrah, it's fullness taunting her with the promise of his safety, as opposed to hours prior when they had read empty. Silent tears fell from her eyes, as they had been since returning from Ozpin's office. RWBY was in no better shape, if the wetness of their eyes when they too left to find solace in their quarters was any sign.

 _"Again, I am truly sorry, but,"_

Nora removed her headphones as she stood up from her own bed, and Ren quickly followed suit. Pyrrah could only look up at the pair as they made their way over, eventually coming to rest on either side of her. They held each other close, a comforting anchor in the tide of grief that threatened to swallow them whole. They would never give up hope, no matter what the Council said. Jaune would come back to them. He would make it back home.

 _"It seems as_ _though_ _Jaune's fate is in his own hands now."_

* * *

Jaune rose from his dreamless slumber with a groan, his muscles aching in protest at the prospect of sitting up. The sun was already halfway through the sky, if the ambient light was anything to go by. His mind was foggy, memories of the night before drifted through his head a slow pace. _A… settlement? Yeah, and there were Grimm, and people?_

A gasp left his lips as he quickly jumped up, his muscles continuing to protest. He paid them no mind as he began to panic. _Are they alright? I need to find them, ASAP._ With the new goal in mind, he quickly moved to start his march. Before he could even finish standing up, he was interrupted by a firm hand that forced him back to the ground, causing him to instinctively reach for his shield. His breath had quickened, heart pounding in his ears before a squeeze from the hand on his shoulder caused him to refocus on who exactly was holding him. The man before him smelled of dirt and a bit of persisting smoke. He had dark red roots to graying hair, a thick beard to match that covered much of his features. His deeply tanned skin was marred by scars on his forearms and one on his forehead that reached above a pair of steel gray eyes. His form was covered by a blood red longsleeve, whose sleeves were rolled up to his bicep. He wore a pair of denim jeans that tucked nicely into a pair of black combat boots. A war pick was resting on his back, but his empty hand was raised in an attempt at placating the young knight.

It worked well for Jaune, as he took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He nodded in response to the cocked eyebrow that the stranger gave him, resulting in the release of his shoulder. Jaune stood up slowly, wincing as his muscles ached. Dusting himself off only produced further agony, but he managed.

The man took the time to introduce himself as Cinn, and Jaune's assumption of him being an older hunter proved correct. By the time Jaune got all of his equipment gathered, Cinn was relaxing against a tree, recounting the tale of the night before.

"You had come 'cross me an' Myrtle jus' after our aura ran empty. It wasn't lookin' good 'till you showed up, divin' down like some one armed knight," Both men smiled at the thought, though one was considerably more embarrassed than the other at the description. Shaking his head, the old redhead continued.

"Anywho, after ye left, Myrtle took her kid and ran south, much to 'er chagrin, mind you. For meself, I wen' and found you fightin' a brother's damned Wendigo," Jaune shivered at the thought. It truly was a nightmare in hindsight. "So I looked at meself, figured that if you up and died on me, I wouldn't forgive meself. Not ever. So I helped, an'" He gestured to the surrounding forest, who responded with a rustling of leaves. "'Ere we are!"

Jaune nodded at the conclusion, glad the other two were most likely safe if what the man said was true. He couldn't help but worry, but he decided to shove it aside for now. For now he had to plan on what he was going to do. As if sensing his pensiveness, Cinn spoke up once more.

"Y'know, if ya headin' south, I could help ya along. You were… a'right wit' yer frisbee, but I could show ya a thing or two on the way." After delivering that blow to his pride, Cinn stood up, stretching his most likely stiff muscles as he let Jaune think about the idea. "Been needin' to head to Vale anyhow, so I'll pro'lly just tag along anyway."

That pretty much answered the only question held by Jaune, so he gave his affirmation.

"Yeah, figured I needed the practice. Feel free." To Jaune's confusion, Cinn dropped his pack on the ground, pulling his war pick off his back and into a low stance, legs wide and weapon ready. Jaune had but a moment to deploy his own shield before a bullet slammed into its front, staggering him as he tossed his pouch aside. Cinn took the chance to dash forward, hooking his shield with the pick. Jaune's eyes widened, and Cinn smirked, as the defensive tool was thrown to the side. Jaune's body followed, and the handle of the pick met his face rather abruptly, throwing him to the damp grass below.

Jaune rolled to the side, just avoiding the end of a war pick coming for his head. He slammed his shield upwards, the clang of metal on metal ringing out as he hit the haft of the pick. Cinn kept up the pressure, forcing Jaune's form to sink into the earth, before he suddenly stopped. Jaune, who had closed his eyes in effort, opened them to see Cinn holding out a hand for Jaune to grab. He did so, if a bit reluctantly. He had a question on his mind, and so, he voiced it.

"The hell was that?" Jaune asked incredulously.

"Trainin'. Better git used to it, 'cause yer gon' be getting lot of it. Now take up yer stance." Jaune did so, the familiar stance drilled into him by Pyrrah showing through. There were a couple holes in it though, and they were pointed out very carefully by Cinn.

"Angle yer shield differently. The way yer holdin' it now, a splash weapon will go right inta yer face. Also, angle yer body different too. Ye've only got a shield, so make sure yer not in a stance that leaves yer left open as much." Jaune followed the instructions, receiving help form Cinn in the form of firm prods with the sharp end of a war pick.

"Better. Now, on yer toes. We're just getting started, Newbie."


	7. Somber Pasts and Hopeful Futures

**Wow. The Rocky theme was in the hearts of everybody as they read th** **at** **last one, myself included. Don't be to surprised at time skips, usually not to** **o** **large, but they show the sequence of events better. There have been minor hiccups pointed out to me, and I fix them if they are too major, but I am doing this without a Beta, so yeah. Don't be too surprised** **by them, and know I do try my best to catch 'em all, but I am not Ash Ketchum.** **Anyhow, let's get this road on the show!**

 **Wait, I mean, shi-**

 **I do not own Roosterteeth**

 **or the rights to RWBY**

 **and may Monty Oum be forever unbound by death.**

* * *

Team's RWBY and _NPR were presently seated in Beacon's cafeteria, bringing the atmosphere of the entire room from it's usual easygoing one to one that is much more somber. Pyrrha could do nothing but poke at her half eaten food, and the other six seated around her were not faring much better. As of late, Jaune's aura had been fluctuating wildly throughout the day, with it never really stabilizing until after the sun had set. This in turn worried them to no end, as they could only wonder what dangers haunted their adorkable knight.

Speaking of danger, Jaune's old tormentors, team CRDL, had just come through the doors of the cafeteria, their very existence putting all four of CRDL's members in serious danger. It only got worse as they approached the seven distraught students.

"Hello ladies… and man?" Russel asked as CRDL pulled up to them, yet before the seven seated students could retaliate, Cardin (of all people) raised his hand, silencingthe growls being sent their way.

"Look, we aren't here to fight, argue, or be a pest," Cardin started, earning shocked looks from all that looked upon the scene that shook the cafeteria into silence. "We are here… to apologize." At that, most people that were present felt their jaws hit the floor.

All but the resident champion and the other six at the table, and Pyrrha quickly began to stand whilst slamming her hands upon the table, leaving a noticeable dent on its wooden surface.

"You dare!" Pyrrha began, as she fully stood from the table, making her way over to Cardin. He could only hang his head at the verbal slaughter he knew was coming. Even Glynda and Ozpin dared not to interrupt the scene, the two having just entered the room.

"You dare to apologize to us, when the one who deserves it the most is out there in the wilds, FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE! You dare!" By now, she was in Cardin's face, the rest of his team having all hung their heads after Cardin. They knew what was coming, expected it even, but even their thick skulls knew better than to retaliate now of all times.

"What makes you THINK that we want to hear your apology now!" Nora and Ren had joined the champion, each having a hand on her shoulder. Cardin towered over them, yet right now he felt smaller than a Rapier Wasp. His response did not help the situation.

"We… we weren't sure that we'd get the chance to-" Cardin was interrupted by a slap to the face that jerked his head to the side. It may have just been a slap, but it felt as if she was aiming to break his neck with it.

"Don't even THINK of finishing that sentence." Pyrrha was about to strike again before she was held back by a hug from Nora, for whose sake the hug was for will forever remain unknown. Nevertheless, it did allow Pyrrha to recompose herself, and after a deep breath she continued.

"Thank you, _Cardin_ ," The venom in the name could cause a corpse to go into anaphylactic shock, even making the teachers flinch at its tone. "But you may apologize to Jaune when he returns. Which. He. Will!" At that, she turned on her heel, the remaining six following in suit. Their lunches went uneaten that day, and nobody faced a punishment for the events that took place.

Times had been tough on all that knew JNPR's fearless leader, and it seemed that it wouldn't be letting up anytime soon.

* * *

The Wild's were unforgiving in both length and its inhabitants to those who traversed its depths.

Never had this been more evident then what reflected upon Jaune and Cinn, a pair who had no choice but to traverse this lush, verdant green hellscape. Although, if Cinn had anything to do with it, Jaune would die to his training before even the oldest Grimm got the chance.

That was Jaune's line of thinking, at the least. It was only further reinforced as Jaune took another swipe of the war pick to the center of his shield, throwing him back. The trenches dug by his dragging feet were deep, but Jaune retaliated against the attack just as Cinn brought up his own weapon, taking the shields pointed edge on the haft of the pick. Cinn did not even flinch at the incoming force, instead using the grip of the weapon to throw the shield to the side, ending with the barrel of a built in elephant rifle pointed at Jaune's head.

After a tense moment, both relaxed their stances. Jaune released a despondent sigh between pants. He had yet to even land a solid hit on the veteran, even though it had been a week since he began his "training". The man was too quick on his draw, to swift to his guard, and unrelenting in his assaults. These same traits had slowly started to incorporate themselves into Jaune's own methods, yet he doubted his ability to ever be at the Huntsman's level. Voicing these thoughts rewarded him with a set of knuckles digging their way into the top of his head.

"Damn brat! Course you ain't at me level yet." Jaune flinched at the bluntness, but Cinn continued before he could speak up. "I've been at this 'ere game for quite a while longer than yerself, after all. Ye are gettin' better though, learnin' lot faster then I did when I was yer age." His eyes glazed over, a thousand yard stare starting to envelop his features before he shook it away. "Anywho, c'mon kid. I got a surprise for ye."

Now Jaune was confused. There was no way Cinn had been to any town as of late, they hadn't even seen one since they left the one they met at. They might have been close enough to see Vale, if their progress had been consistent, though high enough ground to actually see far enough would be scarce, and more than likely house some sort of monstrosity. They've seen more than a few of those as of late, and Cinn just loved letting Jaune handle them all on his lonesome as he rested in the tree branches above.

So Jaune followed Cinn, extremely curious and more than a little worried. He need not have been, however, as Cinn soon came to a stop at the base of a massive tree. Its trunk was far to wide for any man to wrap their arms around fully, and its verdant branches reached far above the surrounding canopy, giving the whole tree a glow from the natural sunlight. Cinn approached the tree, knocking on its trunk on a multitude of different spots while Jaune circled the massive tree, spotting a few scratches and claw marks along its bark covered face. He stopped at an unexpected sight that met him on the side opposite of where Cinn was knocking.

A grave met Jaune's sight, and on the headstones face was the name Azul Minero, with a small set of burnt out candles resting at its base.

"So, finally met the missuss?" Cinn's somber voice surprised Jaune, and he looked beside him to see Cinn on one knee, his gaze on the headstone far off. "She was a thing of beauty, so much so that I was certain she wasn't human, or faunus in her case."

Cinn retrieved a wallet from his back pocket and withdrew a picture of a much younger Cinn beside a tan skinned, brown haired beauty that rivaled him in height. She had a pair of glasses that rested on a button nose, one blue eye closed in a winking pose. She wore a white chest plate and a single pauldron that sat above a leather shirt which revealed a pair of toned arms. A pair of denim jeans tucked neatly into a pair of brown boots, and a mouse tail coiled around one of her legs.

Cinn's form had much less scars when the picture was taken, and the only difference in outfit was a trench coat that hung loosely from his shoulders. The same coat was now hanging loosely from his shoulders, and Jaune could only watch as he replaced the old candles with a new set. Cinn's eyes were closed and his head was bowed as he mumbled a prayer, its contents unheard by Jaune, and once finished, Cinn sat down, one leg extended while an arm rested on an arched knee. Jaune sat beside him cross legged, and they both sat in a somber silence. It was a few minutes later when Cinn finally stood up, and after helping Jaune up as well, they both moved around the tree.

A hidden entrance was dug into the trunk, just large enough to store most items. Cinn reached inside, retrieving from its depths the trench coat that he had been wearing in the photo. He looked at it with a gaze that held a somber acceptance to it, and after taking a second to wipe tears that had yet to fall, he swiftly put it on. He reached in once more, this time retrieving a faded, white pauldron that had a small bit of rust around the edges. After a few seconds, and some help from Cinn, it was firmly attached to his remaining shoulder. The pauldron wrapped around his shoulder, sitting comfortably above his shoulder blade and part of his chest. The interior of the old armor piece was lined with brown fur for cushioning and comfort.

"'Twas Azul's. Said she wanted it to be given to someone who was gonna put it to good use, an' I figured you fit the bill better than I ever could." Jaune felt like arguing, but the somber look in Cinn's wet eyes stopped him before he could start. Instead, he nodded at the gift, giving his thanks in return. Cinn nodded as well before he began to move away from the tree, and Jaune cast one last look at where the grave of Azul lay untarnished by the surrounding Wild's. If Cinn heard what Jaune whispered before he continued to follow Cinn, he never brought it up.

"I'll put it to good use, Mrs. Minero. Promise."


	8. Found

**So, the OC had a wife. That's cool.** **A bit depressing, but it adds depth. Somewhat. Anyway, enjoy!**

 **I do not own Roosterteeth**

 **or the rights to RWBY**

 **and may Monty Oum be forever unbound by death**

* * *

Beacon Professor Peter Port was making his way through the Wilds, a posture and expression that exuded his jolly nature being on full display for the world to see. What went unseen, and unheard, was the tenseness of each muscle being on full power, the silence of each footstep that came with years of experience, and the way that his stride left no marring on the earth muddied by recent rains. He had volunteered to check on a settlement that had gone silent.

A settlement that had been leveled by Grimm.

He discovered its ruins seven days ago, and he wasn't due to report to the rendezvous for another week, so he decided to scour the Wilds for Grimm to slay. He decided, as he pulled his Blunderaxe out of the sternum of a dying Beowolf, that it was most definitely therapeutic.

So as he rounded yet another tree, he happened upon a cave. Its cavernous maw burrowed at a steep angle into the ground, and its surface was slick with mud and gravel. Claw marks could be seen around the rim of the opening, and his gaze could not fully pierce through the veil of darkness it cast inside.

A fine challenge for an experienced huntsman such as himself.

So he slid down into the abyss, not at all worried about what foul creatures traversed its depths.

Except for mice, but they probably wouldn't be in a cave such as this one.

He hoped. (Prayed)

As he slid further down, he was momentarily blind and was forced to feel his way forward. His hands slid across the earthen walls that were supported by the roots of various grasses and trees that resided above ground. After a minute or two of traversing this way, he noticed a light further ahead. So focused and trying to see, that when the loud clang of something striking metal accompanied by a roar of defiance, he nearly hit his head on the ceiling with how high he jumped.

He shook his head and sped up the speed at which he walked, and arrived at a scene he least expected.

Countless humanoid bodies littered the floor, yet their Grimm nature was exposed from the black pigment of their skin and bone like protrusions that resulted in what appeared to be white armor. Two white blades protruded from their fore arms in a manner that was not dissimilar to tonfas, and their heads ended in a blank, bone white dome. The height of the creatures lithe forms must have been nearly seven feet, but there was another detail which really drew his attention.

They weren't fading.

Another shout drew his attention to the center of the room, where one of the creatures were pressing down on a kite shield, whose face was decorated by the symbol of a double arc. Its wielder had ragged, blonde hair and a mess of stubble, a pauldron decorating his right shoulder and chest piece resting above a black hoodie. The figure's left arm was gone, a detail which sparked recognition in the older professor. It was one of his favorite students, one of his better ones at that.

Jaune Arc had been found.

Peter moved to assist the young lad, but Jaune guided the attack from the creature to the side, and used the opening he created to run the creature through with the point of his shield. The creature fell, and Jaune quickly readied into a stance and faced the professor.

"A fine job my boy! I couldn't have done-" He was quickly cut off as a shield hurtled past his head, yet to his surprise, did not meet the wall. He instead heard the clang of bone against metal as it embedded itself into another creature. Jaune tore forwards and retrieved his shield before spinning around once more, taking up his new stance. Port followed the boys direction and saw one of the Grimm rising up once more, any wounds that would have been marring its form sealing shut.

His eyes became visible at how they widened, before narrowing once more in determination. _The poor lad must have been at this for hours,_ Port thought as a swing from his Blunderaxe cleaved the beast in two. _I have to_ _bring_ _him back home._ He focused on the floor before diving forth and beneath the bodies. After a few moments, he resurfaced with a dark red orb in hand. He quickly tossed it up and shattered the orb with a slice from the blade of his Blunderaxe.

Upon doing so, the remaining beast fell to the side, surprising Jaune, if his widened eyes and bated breath were anything to go by. His stance never fell, however, and neither did Port's. This proved to be the correct choice, as the forms of the beasts finally began to fade, yet their particles all began to gather together instead of disappearing until they finally reformed into a singe beast. It remained the same as its previous forms, except for a few details.

First, a red orb that appeared the same as the first had formed in the center of its dome head.

Secondly, the bone like armor and its skin had swapped colors, resulting in black armor adorning a pale, thin body.

Port and Jaune wasted no time in beginning their assault as Port fired another shot that tore into its abdomen. Jaune quickly followed up with a bash from his shield that forced it back. The older huntsman leaped forth and sliced into its back, just missing the spine. The blonde knight bashed the creatures face before both were forced to back off as it let out an ear splitting shriek. It whirled about, its blades a whirlwind of death that scraped on Jaune's shield. Jaune surprised him, however, as he began to block each strike with impeccable precision before throwing the arms of the beast away, following up with a thrust of his shield point that embedded itself beneath the creatures sternum. He was, however, thrown back by the beast and his shield was cast away. Port was not wasting this time, using it to reload his Blunderaxe and fire another powerful shot into its form.

The flechette tore into its side, resulting in it doubling over. Jaune shocked Port once again as his shield flew back into the boys hand with a flash of white and he secured it onto his forearm. The young Huntsman dashed forth, and with a loud roar, embedded the shield once more into the neck of the beast. He learned from his last mistake though, and instead of taking a moment to rest, ripped his shield out of its jugular and slammed its head to the side. Port leapt forth to capitalize on the wound, beheading the beast at long last.

The beast's body faded to dust, and the orb shattered upon impact with the ground.

Port was not overly tired, having been relatively fresh before, yet Jaune was in terrible shape. So terrible in fact, that the lad collapsed onto his back, ragged and labored breaths escaping his lips. The older huntsman slid up and beside the boy, handing forth a canteen filled with water. The boy drank with earnest, even choking slightly due to his rapid pace. He gave Jaune a few moments to recompose himself, and the boy smiled as he handed Port back the flask.

"Thanks prof," His voice was still rough, but the water had done him well. "Don't think I would have figured that out."

"Nonsense, my boy," Port stood now, dusting himself off and helping Jaune to his feet. "These Watchers are a terrifying sort, so no need to worry. Now what have you been up to?"

Suddenly, Jaune's demeanor had turned to a much more somber one as his bangs cast a shadow over his eyes. A sniffle could be heard as he began to recount his tale. And what a tale it was, from his sacrifice for his team, to the Wendigo (this caused Port's eyes to become visible once again), to this Cinn fellow, it was all quite the series of events. Jaune had appeared happy whilst talking about Cinn and his training, though it changed as he got closer to the present time.

"We had just left his wife's burial site when we were stopped by bandits. Some group in red and some lady came forth with a Grimm mask and blood red sword, saying something to Cinn about unpaid debts." By now Jaune was shaking, and Port rested a hand on his shoulder to calm the boy down. _Raven and her group, now that is an unlucky encounter_.

"So he used his semblance on me, one I didn't even know was possible," he was weeping at this point, and Port had embraced him in a fatherly manner. "He sent me to the nearest congregation of Grimm, here, via teleportaion, but I saw," he hiccuped "I saw his head get detached from his shoulders as he smiled."

Jaune finally started sobbing, his cries filled with apologies and self loathing. Port knew better than to let that attitude fester in a person.

"Listen here you," Jaune flinched, but the tone was soothing, if anything. "None of that. It was no ones fault but that bandit woman and her posse." Jaune moved to interrupt, but a firm look from Port shut him up.

"This Cinn fellow clearly found you to be very important, to him and others if he so willingly gave his life to preserve yours. You did the same thing for your friends, and for him at one point." He held Jaune at arms length now, looking him in the eyes as he spoke with a passion unheard even when he was teaching.

"You must not squander his sacrifice with self loathing, so come, let us get back to Beacon. Back home." The boy's eyes widened, red from tears freshly shed, before he nodded vehemently. They began to leave before Jaune collapsed once more, a weak chuckle leaving him.

"I might need to be carried back, sir."

Port could only chuckle as well.


	9. Omake

**This isn't a real chapter, but a notification. There is a poll up where you guys can decide whether Jaune returns to Beacon now, or is ripped back into the foul abyss of the Wilds. I've had mixed views on where it should go, so I'll leave it up to you guys. Anyway, complimentary Omake! (Take it as canon)**

* * *

"C'mon kid, put yer back into it!" Cinn tossed the boy's shield aside, leaving his pick resting across his shoulders and the shield on the other side of the clearing. Jaune groaned as he got up, but felt a strange pull in his shield. Curious, he focused on it, and to both parties surprise, his aura shone brightly. Neither had time to react before the shield slammed into the back of Cinn's head, leaving Jaune fumbling with it in an effort to catch the shield.

Once everyone had settled, Jaune couldn't help but to break out into a fit of laughter that left him doubled over, fighting his mirth for air. Cinn could only grumble in the background as he watched the scene and wait for the boy to finish. An idea came to him, and he smirked, waiting until Jaune finished gasping for air.

"Ya know," Jaune had finally settled, looking up at Cinn from his position on the floor. "That don't really help with everyone calling that thing a Frisbee."

Now it was Cinn's turn to laugh as Jaune's mouth was left wide in shock.


	10. Council Intervention, Truths Revealed

**So, by an overwhelming amount, the people have decided that Jaune will be returning to Beacon with the man, the myth, the legend, Peter Port. You guys also gave me a few ideas as to where you want this to go, or at least some methods of getting there, so I can't thank you guys enough for that. Anyway, enough sappy stuff. Let's get into it.**

 **I do not own Roosterteeth**

 **or the rights to RWBY**

 **and may Monty Oum be forever unbound by death.**

* * *

The bullhead that carried the forms of Peter Port and Jaune Arc was made for Huntsmen, with its small windows, thick hull, and heightened speed. It was designed and built to move Huntsmen and Huntresses throughout the Wilds with haste.

Yet even they dared not to travel to the heart of the Wilds, forcing a walk that lasted three days upon the young knight and old veteran.

The walk had been mostly uneventful, a lack of any major threats being a welcome change to the pace Jaune had been set at during his time in the Wilds. The price of Cinn was a steep one for his survival, and one he still couldn't quite shake.

So as he rested his back against the inner hull of the aircraft, motion sickness long forgotten in favor of an overwhelming depression that was not unnoticed by the portly professor. The longing gaze he had been casting towards a trench coat on his lap.

"The loss of your friend still bothering you, lad?" Port asked, concern easily detectable in his voice. He knew the answer even before Jaune tore his gaze off the piece of clothing. The young knights eyes were red from tears both shed and not.

"Y-Yeah," Jaune sniffed and rubbed some tears that had yet to fall from his eyes. "Your pep talk from before was good, and it helped a bunch, but..." his sentence faded off into a mumble.

Port arched a single eyebrow. "What was that, my boy," He held a cupped hand to his ear, clearly showing his failure to hear the rest of the sentence.

"I'm a fraud!" Jaune jumped up, clutching the coat in his hand with a vice-like grip. "I forged my transcripts, and because of it, my team was down a member for months, and a great man died!" The emotions he had been holding back in the Wild's depths came back full force in the form of a rant that was equal parts rage and grief. Port gave the boy the attention and silence he deserved, nodding along as he reached the climax of his tirade.

Jaune was left panting, trench coat in his hand at his side and tears trailing from his deep blue eyes that were covered by blonde bangs. Port finally stood up and held the boy in a tight, yet warm embrace. There they stood, for how long is unknown, but they only parted once Jaune's sobs had finally settled into small hiccups. He sat the blonde down and took the seat next to him.

"Would it surprise you if I said that we already knew?" Jaune's gaze snapped to the old hunter, causing him to chuckle. "It's true! Much to Glynda's chagrin, we all agreed to let you attend, despite your transcript's… less than honest origins."

Jaune shook his head vigorously. "It doesn't change the fact that it's my fault Cinn d-died, and JNPR was left without its leader for so long. I don't deserve to attend," He looked down at his single gloved hand, slowly opening and closing it. "Especially not now."

A swift chop met the back of his blonde head as Port struck him, a large tick mark on the mans forehead. "Nonsense! You handled yourself against those Watchers for hours! They, and many of the dangers you've experienced would give any Huntsman or Huntress a run for their lien, but you prevailed!" He finished with boisterous laughter that Jaune couldn't help but smile at.

"It's clear that you won't listen to what I have to say, however," Now Jaune's interest was peaked, and Port cast his gaze to the floor. "The staff has decided to hold a test of sorts for you, in an effort to prove to the council and students alike that you belong in the illustrious halls of Beacon academy! Though, you may not enjoy what we have in store for you." Jaune's curiosity must have been visible, because Port let a long sigh escape from his mustached lips.

"You have to prove yourself in combat against the best team of your year." Jaune gasped quietly as Port gave a solemn nod.

"Yes, Team RWBY."

* * *

Ozpin let out a sigh as he rested his head in his hands. He had barely managed to settle the Council with the promise of finding a method to prove Jaune's worth as a Huntsman after Port called in with a report of Jaune in his custody. It was to be kept from team RWBY until after the fact, requiring some more work on their behalf, but it was all he could do.

The council was extremely good at meddling in areas that they did not belong, and now his students had to pay the price.

Speaking of which, the elevator dinged, signaling the arrival of team RWBY. They seemed a tad confused at their presence, a confusion that would be swiftly cleared. Ozpin took a sip of his coffee before clearing his throat.

"Hello ladies," He motioned towards the seats, and they all took one. The effect of Jaune's absence had started to be turned from a source of depression, to one of determination. A rigid mindset that would work to carry them forwards. "A fine day, is it not?" The gathered students shuffled a bit before giving their affirmations that yes, it was a nice day. He nodded once they finished before he continued. He decided that forgoing tact would most likely be the best course of action.

"You four are scheduled to have a four on one duel against a one-armed student transferring into Beacon." he raised his hand, silencing the hail of questions about to be sent his way. "Yes, yes. I know that it seems the odds are stacked in your favor, but I can assure you that they have been undergoing some truly hellish training." _Now that is an understatement._

RWBY had settled down, listening intently to the information being given to them by Ozpin. "They will be arriving at the school tonight, and your battle will occur at noon tomorrow. Be prepared." With that, he waved his hand, excusing them from his office. They stood and entered the elevator, but just before they fully crossed the threshold, Ruby turned around.

"What's their name?" Ozpin smirked behind his coffee mug as he was tempted to give them the actual answer. He wouldn't, but he was extremely tempted.

"I am sorry Miss Rose, but I cannot say."


	11. A Battle for the Ages

**Uuuum, I can explain? No? Fine, yes, throwing Jaune to the wolves before he even lands on Beacon grounds was cruel, but still! It serves a purpose! Hopefully. Maybe. Anyway, let's get this party started.**

 **I do not own Roosterteeth**

 **or the rights to RWBY**

 **and may Monty Oum be forever unbound by death.**

* * *

It was late the same night that Ozpin had informed RWBY of the coming battle, and no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't sleep. Yang was pacing the floor, fuming in silence while Weiss wrote a letter to her sister. Blake read from her… choice selection of literature. Ruby was oddly silent, a look of contemplation taking over her features as she sat on the edge of her bed. The silence was broken when Weiss set down her pen with a sigh, garnering looks from the rest of the team.

"Look, it's pretty obvious it's Jaune, but someone other than Ozpin wants it kept quiet from us, so what do we do?" Yang slowed her pacing and Blake shut her book, setting it under her pillow. Ruby still looked contemplative.

Finally, Blake spoke up. "Do you think they found out about his transcripts?" They all flinched at that. He had told them about his transcripts at the end of their first year. It was fairly well received, as he had proved himself to them by guiding his team to victory in the Vytal Festival. Weiss took it the worst, but got over it shortly after reminding herself who her raven haired friend used to affiliate with.

"It's not impossible, but if they did and this _is_ a method of proving himself, should we throw the match?" Weiss' statement gave everyone pause, except for Ruby who remained in her pensive state. Yang held her chin, tapping her foot in thought as Blake moved to the edge of her bed.

"No." Three gazes snapped onto the form of their youngest member, who's gaze remained affixed to the floor in thought.

"What do you mean 'no'?"

"Isn't he your best friend?"

"This is rather fooli-"

Ruby held up her hand, silencing the other three, though they did appear to be agitated.

"Look, I get it," She stood up, beginning to pace as Yang took her spot on the edge of the bed. "He _is_ my first, and best friend here at Beacon, and it does seem rather foolish, but how would he feel if he knew that we held back when he was fighting to prove himself?" THAT gave the others pause, and Ruby took the silence as an opportunity to continue.

"He would hate us, hate himself, thinking that he couldn't earn his keep on his own. I would devastate him!" She threw her arms into the air to emphasize the point. "That's _if_ whoever's watching doesn't notice us holding back." She finally took her gaze off the floor and placed it on Weiss, who did look a bit sheepish at the statement of fact.

"We are going all out, for his sake." She looked around, determination clear in her eyes. The others matched her gaze and nodded. Yang stood up and clashed her fists together.

"Yeah! Vomit-Boy won't know what hit em!" The others raised their arms at the declaration, determination and ferocity filling the air. They would give it everything they had.

The moment was shattered when a neighboring wall was pounded on, a cry for their silence muffled but still audible from the other side of the wall. They all appeared sheepish at the call out, but their determination was unbroken, wills unshakable.

They were ready.

* * *

Jaune was not ready.

He was pacing in front of a row of lockers in the men's locker room. Cinn's trench-coat adorned his figure, and Azul's pauldron sat above it with his chest piece hidden beneath it. His hands were gloved, and a pair of brown cargo pants tucked neatly into brown combat boots. He had a replacement sword and shield/sheathe on his hip, identical to his except for it's palette change and lack of the double arcs on its face. To top it off, a helmet was covering his head. When asked about the design, he decided on one that matched the Watcher's he had fought before Port found him. It was a sleek blue dome with a golden orb in its center. One way glass made up its entirety, and its density was military grade. It did well to hide his figure, but that wasn't what Jaune was worried about.

No, what bothered him was the coming battle.

The RWBY he remembered was fierce, with each person deserving their high rankings in Combat Class. Their teamwork was nothing to scoff at either. While their tactics may be questionable at times, unorthodox at others, they never failed to somehow defeat those that stood against them.

So it was one whole team, one considered the best of their year, against one of the worst of the same year.

He had more than enough reason to panic.

Sadly, his time to lament at his own situation was cut short by a text from Ozpin on his phone. The message was short and simple. "It's time." Nothing else had to be said, he knew he had to head out and face the fire. Ride the lightning. Taking comfort from the warmth of the trench-coat and a little sadness at the state of its previous owner, he left the locker rooms.

He would prove his worth here and now.

* * *

RWBY walked out to the center of the arena. The surrounding stands were full of students across all years, and the took time to look over the audience. They spotted CFVY cheering them on, and _NPR was in the front row. Professor Port and Prof- "Doctor!" right, Doctor Oobleck were off to the side, conversing to one another. Goodwitch was waiting by off the side of the center of the arena, waiting the arrival of both sides.

They didn't have to wait for long, as the "mysterious" transfer student walked up to the assembled team. His helmet did well to unnerve them, and it was even better at hiding his features. The left sleeve of the trench-coat was tied in a knot at the shoulder, the excess cloth tapering off for a few inches, clearly showing the state of the appendage underneath.

Neither said any words for a minute, before Ruby finally spoke up.

"Good luck, and may the best Huntsman, or Huntress, win!" She cheerfully said, earning a respectful nod from the lone student. They backed away a few feet, and once Goodwitch checked to make sure everything was ready, he raised her riding crop.

"Begin!"

To nobody's surprise, Yang tore forwards while Blake and Ruby flanked from either side, shouts of effort coming from both as they sprinted forth. Weiss fell to a supportive position behind the three, casting multiple glyphs that rained shards of ice from a distance. What she didn't account for was the dust and ice particles it would kick up, effectively blinding and halting RBY's progress. Jaune wasted no time, infusing some aura into his shield before hurling it at Blake. She was caught off guard by the sudden move, resulting in her taking it directly to the stomach, ripping the air from her lungs.

The shield glowed and returned to Jaune's arm as he spun, ending with a slam to the side of Blake's head, taking a chunk of aura with it. He was forced back as Yang leapt in-between her partner and the knight. Ruby was no slouch either, as she quickly moved forward to sweep out Jaune's legs from under him. He wasn't allowed to go very far, as a glyph had formed behind him and kept him from dodging Ruby's swipe, forcing him to lose 4% of his aur-

 _4%!_

This was the thought that went through everyone's head. A person's aura capacity went up the more it was damaged, much like how muscle fibers tear before reforming stronger than they were before. This level of aura was insane, it suggested that his aura had been beaten to exhaustion almost as quickly as it could refill. Even Jaune was surprised, but he knew better than to waste time marveling. That lesson had been soundly beaten into his head.

Jaune threw Ruby off of him and hurled his shield at Weiss. The sound of metal striking aura snapped everyone out of their stupor as they regained their bearings. Jaune had made it to Weiss as she was doubled over, unable to stop the shield from returning to his arm. He slammed Weiss' head downwards and was about to follow up before the back of his head was slammed by a high caliber round, and his back was peppered with buckshot and small caliber rounds. He grit his teeth as he continued to focus on Weiss.

 _Doesn't matter how much aura I have if they shred it like this._

He charge Weiss once more, forcing her entire form onto the face of his shield before he carried and shoved her out of bounds. Goodwitch signaled her out of the fight as he spun around to deflect the hailstorm of Dust propelled bullets being sent his way. Being prepared for bullets and receiving an aura powered punch left much different results, however, as Yang's fist met the center of his shield. With a smirk, she unleashed a volley of high speed punches towards Jaune, the pace only increasing as time went on.

Not to be outdone, Jaune met each strike with the center of his shield, resulting in neither giving an inch. Blake and Ruby took the time to reload their weapons before dashing into the fray. Ruby tried to get around Jaune and Yang to get a better shot at his back, while Blake opted to try and force him to back off. In response, he dodged to the side just as Yang sent a powerful strike his way, leaving her stumbling. Blake had no time to change course as she struck Yang's side instead.

Jaune rushed Ruby, following another thrown shield as he made his way over. Ruby used her semblance to dash past his approaching form, moving to land more shots in his back. He could do nothing as she had dashed by his left side. He focused on his shield, and it returned in time for him to block a sniper round. He checked the aura readers.

 _Transfer Student- 73%_

 _Ruby- 92%_

 _Yang- 70%_

 _Blake- 76%_

 _This could be going better._ Jaune thought as he moved to the side, dodging an approach from Yang. He saw Blake approaching from the corner of his eye, and he smirked from behind his helmet. Just as Yang sent a punch that was now powered by her semblance, he dropped low. The strike sailed over his head, letting him slam her chin with the point of his shield. He sent her back with a bash from his shoulder just as another rifle round glanced off his pauldron. He waited a few seconds, before spinning around and blocking a sneak attack from the cat faunus. Her eyes widened before he shoulder checked her, forcing a slight backpedal on her behalf before digging the point of his shield into her gut. Her aura flared before a scythe forcibly separated the two.

The look on Ruby's face was one of pure determination as she followed up the downward swing with an upward swipe that tore Jaune's shield upwards and away. He jumped back but couldn't avoid the horizontal conclusion to the three strike attack sent his way. The young huntress smirked as she blitzed forward before her world was flipped upside down. As she fell to the floor, she spotted the shield come from underneath her feet and move in Jaune's direction before her airborne body was sent sprawling by a shoulder check from Jaune.

Yang saw red when she witnessed Jaune pull that stunt on her little sister, and her aura (and hair) flared in response as her eyes went red. With a furious scream, she leapt forth with a punch leading the charge. She slammed the back of his head, forcing him to fly forward. He stuck out his only hand and spun on the floor before he kipped up, ready to block the raging bull that was Yang Xiao-Long.

Jaune could feel his arm going numb as the other blonde's assault refused to let up before a ballistic chain scythe wrapped around his torso and yanked him backwards. He looked over his shoulder just for his nose to meet the fist of an angry kitty. Said kitty began to unload her other clip into his side before he slammed his head upwards and into her face. She was forced to let go and her form was slammed again, this time from his shield that dug its edge into her ribs. A buzzer went off, signaling her defeat.

Just as Jaune stood up fully, Yang was back on him again, and now she was forcing him to the edge of the arena with her assault. He was starting to struggle with her ferocity. The sheer power behind each blow was damaging his aura even through his shield. He felt he heels at the arena's edge and grit his teeth. This was it, it's over.

 _NO! I REFUSE to go down here!_

With a shout, he ducked down once more and spun around to Yang's side. She was caught completely off-guard by the maneuver, so she could do nothing as he slammed the face of his shield in a backhanded swing into her form, forcing her out of bounds. Jaune was left panting but turned to face the final member of Team RWBY, its leader nonetheless. It would prove to be his undoing, however, as he turned just in time to see her scythe inches from his midsection. Time seemed to slow as his eyes widened behind the helmet, and Ruby never lost her look of determination as she shouted with effort. He was caught in the crook of her scythe, and using her momentum, she forced him out of bounds. The buzzer went off, and now Ruby was left panting at the arena's edge. All was silent until Goodwitch finally caught up with what happened and announced the results. Ruby's eyes finally went wide in realization just as she heard the statement echo throughout the hall.

"Team RWBY wins!"


	12. Home

**Hey! It's been a while, I know. I did put up another story, which is only two chapters long at the moment, but it's getting there. The fight was a bit lackluster, I know, but I'm gonna sti** **ck to my guns this time around** **. Anyway, I've held you long enough, so enjoy!**

 **I do not own Roosterteeth**

 **or the rights to RWBY**

 **and may Monty Oum be forever unbound by death.**

* * *

The hall was silent, Goodwitch's declaration echoing off the wooden bleachers of the combat arena. There was scarcely a breath it seemed, and pin could be heard if dropped.

That is until the student body watching slowly began to clap. One by one, student by student, the applause grew. The outcome was expected, but the closeness of the fight left more than a few cheering for the transfer student. On the sidelines, Professor Port gave Doctor Oobleck more than a few lien.

Said transfer student, however, was still lying on the ground with Yang a few feet away. His eyes were still wide beneath his helmet, and the replacement shield weighing more than seemed possible on his arm. Ruby still seemed shocked, her eyes wide and mouth open as she looked out from the edge of the arena. The rest of Team RWBY was slowly making their way back to their leader, with Yang assisting Jaune in standing. They all gathered back in the center of the arena, waiting for Professor Goodwitch.

She did not disappoint, and the crack of her riding crop silenced the students. With a nod, she turned to the five before her.

"While you've all grown exponentially as of late, please do not fail to work on your teamwork. There was more than one occasion where you interfered with one another mid fight." RWBY had the sense to look sheepish at the call-out, recalling the same moments where they were led into attacking one another.

"As for you, while what you accomplished was impressive, please do not let it get to your head." Jaune nodded his helmeted head, still reeling at the loss. "You may have knocked out three of the four, but that overconfidence led to you being caught off guard by Miss Rose." Jaune was still nodding, causing Goodwitch to release a sigh that carried a certain amount of exhaustion with it.

"Go to the infirmary, there should be a map on your scroll to guide you." Jaune didn't even wait before turning on his heel and quickly walking away. Glynda wanted nothing more than to follow him, to look him over and see if he was alright herself. Though if the faces on RWBY were anything to go by, she'd have little to worry about.

"Everyone is dismissed!" She called out, sending RWBY and the students gathered in the stands out of the room as she used her semblance to reset the arena. Port and Oobleck stuck behind, only moving towards Glynda once she finished.

"Quite the show, eh Glynda?" Port's jovial mood carried easily through his voice, and Oobleck nodded vigorously beside the portly Huntsman.

"Indeed, the young mister Arc has improved vastly over the course of his stay here, and that was no doubt expanded upon exponentially by his stay in the Wilds." Oobleck said, quickly but not as swiftly as he does when teaching. That level of fast talking was reserved for the classroom.

"Yes, but I do worry about the councils decision in the end," The raised eyebrows of both male professors made her release a small sigh, but she elaborated nonetheless.

"Well, while we may see him as more than worthy enough to stay at our school, I fear that the council may just take the loss at face value and demand his expulsion." Unbeknownst to them, one student had stayed by the door, listening for a chance to question the combat professor. Instead, they were left staggered by the knowledge of the fights true nature. Thus, they swiftly put their years of training to good use, tearing through the halls and towards the infirmary containing Jaune Arc.

* * *

Jaune was lying on one of the many infirmary beds as a nurse was processing his vitals and preparing a few tests. His helmet was on a stand beside him, trenchcoat and armor having been placed in his rocket locker while the school's sword and shield was returned to the armory. His eyes were rimmed red as his back and head rested against the aluminum bed frame.

"I can't believe it. I-I'm going to be expelled." He sniffed and cleared his eyes of the tears yet to fall. "All of Cinn's work, all of that time getting back, for nothing."

"I'm going to have to disagree with you there, Mr. Arc."

Jaune's head snapped to where he heard the voice, and there in the corner was the headmaster of Beacon, Professor Ozpin. A steaming mug was in one hand while his other rested on his cane. They stared at each other for a little while, Ozpin hiding a smirk behind his mug while Jaune sniffed. Finally, Ozpin released a small sigh.

"Mr. A-no, Jaune," Jaune's eyes widened at the change in address, but Ozpin continued.

"You are one of Beacon's most promising students, have come a long way from your first few months here." Jaune nodded in agreement. His first months at Beacon were hellish, between his lack of skill to lack of knowledge in seemingly everything but tactics, he was a far cry from being Huntsman material.

"You were posed with a situation that could have cost your entire team their lives, but instead all that was lost was an appendage." Jaune felt the remnants of his left shoulder ache painfully at that, but showed no signs of interrupting.

"Even without an arm, you pressed on, surviving what many others could only dream, or have nightmares of, in the Wilds." Jaune's chest filled with an inkling of pride at the compliments thus far.

"At the loss of your sword, you learned to use your shield as a weapon, one that was enhanced by your semblance I might add. Even though you lost today, you showed a leap in skill that made you a force to be reckoned with. I believe you have more than earned your keep at this school," He paused to take a sip from his mug, leaving Jaune in anxious for but a moment.

"And the Council of Vale agrees as well."

* * *

The student that had eavesdropped on the professors was now joined by two others, and they all were running towards the infirmary. They arrived just in time to see Headmaster Ozpin exiting the room, and after a nod of recognition on his behalf, they pressed onwards into the room. There, they met the sight of Jaune Arc, who was smiling happily at them.

Nora wasted no time in diving forth, bringing him into a bear hug which was returned with the rubbing of her head as he reached over with his one arm. Ren stepped forth as well, placing a comforting hand on his right shoulder while Pyrrha hugged him from the other side. Both Nora and Pyrrha were crying, while Ren let a smile break through his normal composure.

"We were so worried, Jaune." Said knight's smile softened at the wavering voice of Pyrrha Nikos, who had her face buried in his right side while Nora only squeezed tighter. "We watched your aura level the whole time you were out there, and whenever it dropped to nothing, w-we just-" She hiccuped, and Jaune started running a hand through her hair, letting her vent until she finally went silent. Nora looked up from her place near his stump, a massive grin on her wet face.

"So, fearless leader, now that you're back, are you gonna be like a pirate?!" Suddenly she was standing beside the bed, a straw hat and false red beard on her head while she wore Cinn's trench-coat, one of the sleeves vacant as her arm hung on the inside. Jaune gave a chuckle at the whole thing while Ren released an exasperated sigh.

"She's right, you know." Now Jaune's gaze shifted to Ren, an eyebrow raised at the statement. "Not Nora," said redhead deflated slightly. "But Pyrrha. They retrieved your arm, and we grew much more anxious than before." Ren dug a fist into Jaune's hair, a smirk atop his face. "So don't do it again."

All of Team JNPR smiled at that, and so they all joined in one group hug, as a team.

As a family.

Pyrrha refused to let go of his side though, no matter how hard Nora and Ren pulled. The nurse was forced to remove them with the threat of sicking Goodwitch on them so she could conduct some tests on his arm, and after an agreement to meet up later, Team JNPR sans Jaune left the room in a comfortable silence. The same silence persisted while the nurse conducted her tests, and she left once again to check the results.

"So it's true."

Jaune's head snapped to the open doorway of the infirmary and was greeted by the sight of Team RWBY. Blake and Weiss' gaze were cast downwards while Ruby and Yang looked him in the eye, Yang's face was marred with a frown but Ruby looked ready to cry.

"You lost your arm..." Ruby sniffed as she finished, her voice wavering. Jaune released a small sigh before he raised his remaining arm, beckoning her into a hug. Slowly, tentatively, she approached and wrapped her small arms around his torso, weeping quietly into his side. He returned the hug in full, not even flinching when Yang joined in too. Weiss soon followed, much to everyone's surprise, and if Weiss' joining shocked them then they were floored when Blake joined in as well.

They remained like this until Ruby started squirming a little bit. He released her, and everyone else backed off as well. While her eyes were rimmed red, the silver eyed reaper was wearing a smile to rival the sun in its brightness. From Yang's grin to Weiss' and Blake's much smaller smiles, everyone seemed happy.

"Gotta _hand_ it to ya, you got us good in that last match." Yang punned, earning a groan from everyone while Jaune just shook his head. As much as he hated to admit it, it was nice to hear even the worst of puns from Yang at this point. "But next time it'll be a complete shut out. No rings to throw us out of in a real fight anyway." He just shook his head at her antics. It wasn't long before felt his eyes begin to droop, and noticing his tiredness, everyone else bid their farewell with more promises to meet up later. Ruby had to be bribed with cookies, but when they finally exited it left the room in silence. A silence that seemed to ring out with promise for the future.

Thus, he drifted back to sleep, knowing that he was finally home.

* * *

The room was small, yet not uncomfortably so. Its white plaster walls were soundproofed and the wooden floor underfoot was not uncomfortable to stand on. There was a twin sized bed in the corner, whose sheets hadn't been ruffled in many a month, and a single fan was still in its place on the ceiling. A window that led to a small balcony was open, letting in the cool night air.

In the room's center was the figure of a woman, whose ebony hair reached past her waist. A sheathe carrying her single edged blade rested on her hip, and the eyes of her avian Grimm mask glowed a soft red as she looked at a scroll. After a short while, she crushed it in her grip before stepping out of the room and into the hallway.

Making her way down the stairs and into a living room revealed a group of people in red and black leather, a variety of weapons in each of their hands as they talked amongst themselves. The clearing of her throat silenced them all, and one woman stepped forth. Her tan face and pale blue eyes that were framed by short brown hair shone with pure respect for the long haired woman.

She held out an arm, and the group split to reveal a family of six, all of which had heads of hair that varied in shades of gold and blue eyes that were filled with fear. All except the one who was clearly the father, who had the rest of his family behind his large for. His gaze was filled with a hatred that burned hot enough to melt steel, while the rest of the large family were shaking behind him. The woman could only smirk behind her mask at the man's attempt at intimidation.

"That iron will of yours, one synonymous with the Arc name is it not?" The man's eyes widened at her voice before they returned to their venom filled state, his bindings seeming to strain against his strength as his muscles tensed.

"Raven Xiao-" He was cut off by a strike across his face, a red hand print marring his face. He still retained his grin, one filled with contempt and some mirth.

"I bear his name no longer, Arc-"

"Yeah, I know," Her hand dropped to the hilt of her sword and she fingered the trigger built into its underside.

"You haven't carried it since you walked out on your daughter and husband, leaving Summer to-" He never got the chance to finish. His sudden silence confused everybody except for Raven, who flicked her blade to the side and sheathed it. A red line formed across the man's neck before his head slid off its base, the grin adorning its features never leaving. The grief filled howls of the girls that followed were silenced as they were forcefully knocked unconscious, leaving the mother weeping on her knees.

Raven used the tip of her sword to tilt the woman's head up towards her, and the glare she received was no less venomous than the late Arc patriarch. Raven's voice, however, held a steel to it that no other could hope to match, that carried with it not a threat, but a promise of future pain.

"Now, _Miss_ _Arc_. You are going to tell me all about your son."


End file.
